Summer Love Chapter One
by katieuher1
Summary: Its the summer after graduation, and Kate - a Phoenix native- finds herself in New Mexico, visiting her father one last time before attending NYU in the fall. As she becomes accustomed to the neighborhood and the familiar town, Kate unintentionally falls in love with the boy next door. Like quicksand, the more Kate resists, the faster she falls in love. A coming of age tale.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

IT WAS A BRIGHT DAY when I left my home in Phoenix, Arizona, to live with my father for the summer. Clear skies and thankfully, no sign of tears from my mother yet. My mom, who just landed her new job as a marketing consultant for London Group & Associates, is driving me to the Phoenix International Airport, before she starts her first day at the firm. I can tell that she is anxious, her knuckles are white and she is very quiet this morning. I grab my cup of coffee and sip it slowly, wondering if I should engage in conversation or let her be. I decide not to wake her from her reverie. I roll down my window, enjoying the crisp desert wind blowing through my hair and the sun beaming down on my golden skin.

I'm excited to see Daniel, my dad. I haven't talked to him since last summer, when I visited him in New Mexico. He is an outdoorsy type, picking up whatever dangerous sport he falls in love with next. He has had a thirst for adrenaline since mom left for phoenix, and took me with her. After we left, he coped with the heart break by seeking out one adrenaline rush after another. A temporary break from the all too desolate reality that he lived in. I've visited him every summer for 10 years now. He lives in a small village just outside of Albuquerque, called Corrales. This is where I will be staying for the next couple of months before I head off to New York University in the fall.

As we approach the airport, my mother wakes from her reverie long enough to tell me goodbye. I can tell that she is having a hard time with me leaving for the summer; tears start to well up in her eyes as we say goodbye.

"Kate, sweetheart, I'm going to miss you baby girl. Do you have everything you need?" She asks endearingly, a tear escaping from her eye.

"Oh, mom! Don't cry. I am going to miss you too. I love you more than a million chocolate chips." I say, hinting at our much used expression.

"And I love you more than a million peanut butter cups. Have a safe flight sweetie. Call me when you land." She responds, keeping time with me.

I plant a quick kiss on her forehead and make my way to the airport doors. Once in, I maneuver my way through the terminal and find the gate matching my flight number. As I take a seat, my mother's teary face appears in my mind and I feel a slight stab of pain. I close my eyes momentarily and take a deep breath. _I shouldn't have left her._

A short time later, a woman in her late forties calls over the intercom for zone one boarding. I stand up, gather my things and head towards the jet way. I feel butterflies appear in my stomach as I walk onto the airplane. This might be the last time I see my dad for a long while. It is difficult to imagine what my life will be like after I start college. I find my seat, and fall asleep and wake up again only after we have already landed in Albuquerque.

My dad is waiting in the main lobby of the airport and I approach him with a big smile on my face. I see the sparkle appear in his eyes as he looks me over.

"You're getting big Catherine! How tall are you now, six feet? You're too skinny. Do you eat, generally?" My dad says with excitement and a hit of humor.

"I'm 5'10 dad." I respond with a giggle. "And yes, I do eat. Generally."

"It's good to see you kiddo." He says.

He takes my backpack from my shoulders and starts walking toward the exit. I follow instinctively and wonder if anything has changed since the last time I've been here. It almost seems like time stopped when I left last summer, and just recently resumed now that I have returned. We approach dad's white F-250 and he puts my backpack in the bed of the truck. I stumble into the passenger seat, feeling challenged by the height of the truck. I see my dad smile, knowing all too well what he is thinking. We drive out of the airport and hit a local hamburger place for lunch before he takes me home to Corrales.

"So how are things with your mom?" He asks, rather gently.

I look at him, unsure about what to answer. His intentions seem genuine, not a pry for information about whom my mother's new suitors are.

"She's good. She just started a new job as a marketing consultant." I offer, shrugging my shoulders.

"Marketing, huh? She always struck me as a free spirit. Not one to get stuck in a corporate loop." He says.

I smile. "Yeah, me too."

We finish up lunch and drive home to Corrales. My dad brings my backpack inside. I don't follow him. Instead, I take a look around outside. Wandering through the trees, I browse the neighborhood, breathing in the sweet aroma of the air. _I haven't felt this peaceful in a long while._

I'm sitting with my eyes closed on a patch of grass, when I hear a loud argument coming from the house on my left. I open one eye to locate the source of the sound and I hear the door open and slam shut. A man, probably 20 years old, by my calculations storms out of the house and catches my eye. _He's beautiful._ Although his face is contorted into a look of anger, his eyes are a smoldering golden brown color. I catch my breath and stare, unintentionally at him. He looks at me, momentarily intrigued by my presence, and shakes his head, relapsing into his irritation.

I watch him carefully, as he paces back and forth in front of the white gate. Before I know it, I'm up on my feet and walking toward him. _What am I doing?_ He stops in his tracks as I approach him. Once in front of him, I immediately regret not minding my own business. I swallow hard, almost audibly.

"Hi." I say, and my throat is too dry to speak. Get a grip, Kate. He only looks like a golden-tanned Greek God. Nothing to worry about, right?

"I came over here to ask if you were okay. That sounded like a heated argument… Oh! I'm Kate, new to the neighborhood." I extend my hand to him.

He doesn't reach for it. Instead he retorts,

"With all due respect miss, I don't know you. I don't share personal information with strangers and would appreciate it if you did NOT listen in on my private conversations."

With that, he storms back into his house, leaving me hanging and my hand still extended. It takes me a minute to recover my composure. _And thanks for the warm welcome, friendly neighbor. _I can't believe that just happened! Nobody has ever been bold enough to call me out like that; especially when I use my charming smile and big blue eyes on them. Irritated, I saunter back to the house and find my dad on the couch, reading his latest book.

"Dad?" I ask, fuming. "Has courtesy somehow disappeared down here in Corrales? Because I think it still exists in Phoenix. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's still a thing."

"Ah, I see you've met our new neighbors." He says, with a hint of sarcasm. "Aren't they just wonderful?"

I look at him, deeply confused. I'm speechless as I turn and walk away, towards my room. I grab my backpack from the floor and put it on my bed. My intentions are to unpack my belongings, but the boy next door keeps appearing in my mind. I've never seen someone so beautiful. He must have been over six feet tall. It seemed like he towered over me. It shrunk my confidence, wounded me. I try to shake it from my mind and unzip my backpack. _Ok_, _Shirts here, shorts there._ I turn to place them in my closet and I'm immediately paralyzed by his image; again. In my mind, I can't help but admire the way his tattered jeans hung on his hips and his black T-shirt clung to his chest. Oh my, I'd better sit down for a while. I close my eyes and breathe.

All throughout high school, I'd never bothered with a relationship. Usually, there was no one to catch my interest, but the main reason I refrained was because I so badly wanted to get into New York University. It had been my dream since I was a kid to study journalism and live in a big city that offered the means to achieve my goals. I toured many places, but chose New York because it seemed to have a charm that was unique to the rest. People walked around me with elegance and a sense of purpose. This was the beauty of New York. One day, I will be one of those people. I'll be searching purposefully for my place in the world.

Once more, I breathe in the air around me, this time, like it's the smell of success. When I open my eyes again, I find myself staring at the other side of my closet. I frown. I'll be in New York soon. Until then, I get to deal with nasty neighbors and the old fashioned outdoors. With a wave of determination washing over me, I head out to the living room and meet my dad for dinner.

"Hey kiddo!" He says, with a smile. I love my dad's smile; it reminds me of various adventures he took me on during the summer months.

"Hey dad." I reply, and take a seat at the table. "What are you making for dinner?"

"Well, I took the liberty of making fish sticks and curly fries for tonight. I hope that's okay with you."

I gasp. Fish sticks and curly fries! Mom would never have allowed this. Her motto has always been, 'lean is green, fries are mean'. Instantly, a smile emerges on my face and I break out laughing. I love it here!

"Dad, that's amazing! I'd love to eat fries and fish sticks with you."

He smiles back, and hands me my plate of goodies. We skip the kitchen table and go right for the couches, planting ourselves in front of the television. We watch a movie and clean up after dinner. After an exhausting day, I get ready for bed and bid my dad goodnight. I yawn and fall into a deep sleep, dreaming about the boy next door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

WHEN I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING, I found myself lying on the white carpet next to my bed. _What?_ I rub my head, looking up at the walls and then towards the sunlight shining through the opening in my curtains. Disgruntled, I climb onto my hands and knees and move toward my bed. I look around the room, wondering what would cause such a severe displacement from my bed. I find nothing, and decide that I must have rolled in my sleep and somehow landed on the floor. I look at the alarm clock on my bedside table. It reads _7:15._ With a sigh, I stretch out my arms and walk towards the window, hoping it will provide a reason for my poor night's sleep.

I push aside the purple curtain and look out the window. The sun is bright, but I welcome it. In my mind, I breeze through my morning routine and consider everything I will need to accomplish it. The first thing on my list is breakfast. Reluctantly, I leave my sunlit window and head towards the kitchen. I find my dad already at the table eating a bowl of cereal.

"Mornin' kiddo." He says. "There's food in the fridge and cereal in the pantry. How did you sleep?" He asks, genuinely intrigued.

I smirk, remembering the insect-like view of my bed from this morning.

"Honestly dad, I can remember better nights. I woke up on my floor this morning."

"Well I can install a support beam along the side of your bed, if that will make you feel safer." He says humorously.

I give him my best glare, and reach for a mango on the kitchen counter. He starts laughing. After breakfast, I get ready for the day and decide to browse around town for a summer job. I look online for a list of music stores in the area and note each address down on a piece of paper. I have four stores in total that I want to look at, even if just for a peek at their music selection. The closest one that I find is in Corrales, only a half mile from my house. From the pictures, it looks like a small record store with a homey feel to it. I have a feeling that I will be spending a lot of time in that store this summer, job or not.

I gather my necessities in my brown leather purse and hang it over my shoulder. I place my oversized sunglasses on the top of my head and open the old fashioned map I found in my dad's office. I look at the map attentively, pinpointing my location. The directions are rather simple, two left turns and I should arrive right in front of the store. With that, I start walking towards the dirt road behind the house. I open the gate with ease and walk purposefully, in the direction of the music store. Careful not to fall into the canal of water that parallels the road, I veer to the left, closer to the fence. After a short distance of walking, I come upon the music store. It's small, but charming. _Supporting local,_ I think with a smile.

I open the door and take a peek inside. The walls are decorated with Indian artwork and old fashioned records. There are three aisles of music to browse through, each nearly touching the ceiling. _It's wonderful. I've never seen anything like it._ With a rush of excitement flowing through me, I dash for the first genre that I see. _Classics._ I pick up the records. _Elvis Presley, Sex Pistols, Rolling Stones. _I must be in Heaven. I take a moment to look around this homey place that I intend to call my home for the summer. I breathe in the rustic smell of the atmosphere. With a sudden bout of courage, I look for the manager of the store_. _My hands are sweaty and I'm holding my application too tight. It has been wrinkled, and is no longer in the condition I intended to release it in.

The manager hears me approaching and turns around to face me. He is an older gentleman, with youthful grey eyes and long white beard. He offers up a small smile, and I return it, only bigger.

"Good morning miss. Can I help you find anything?" He asks in a soft, barely audible tone.

"Good morning sir. You have an incredible music store here! It must have taken years to collect this many vinyl records." I look around with awe, once again, and return my gaze to the old man.

"Oh! How rude of me. My name is Catherine, but I go by Kate. I live just down the road." I say, using my eyes to point the direction of my house.

I extend my hand to him, and he takes it. The feeling of relief washes over me. _Finally! Somebody is willing to shake my hand._ He smiles again.

"Thank you." He says, just a whisper. "My name is Al. I've owned this store for 25 years. It used to be my father's, but I took it over after he passed away. I use music as a way to connect to him. I've been collecting records all my life."

"I know what you mean." I say. "My dad takes me on all kinds of outdoor adventures. It's our thing. He taught me how to ride a dirt bike when I was fourteen." I laugh. "But he also takes me rock climbing and camping, when he feels up for it."

Al and I talk for while and he tells me about his adventures out of state to find records. I start to realize that it was a on a stroke of luck, that I was able to meet him here today. He could have been seeking out records, but instead, he was here talking to me.

"I'll be driving to Georgia next week to find my last David Bowie vinyl." He says with excitement. "I usually leave Jake in charge of the store while I'm gone. He takes good care of the place."

"Well sir… Al, I've always dreamed of working in a music store." I say, my face flushing bright red. "Perhaps you would consider having me assist Jake while you are gone. It would mean so much to me. You have a wonderful store." I motion around me; a look of desperation appears in my eyes.

Al seems to notice how much I care about his music, and out of pity, consents to me helping Jake, his only employee. I wonder if Jake is his son, or other relative. Maybe Jake is equally as passionate about music as Al is. The thought makes me happy. Al instructs me to come back the following morning, around the same time, for a full tour of the store and an explanation of my duties as an employee. With one last gesture of gratitude, I walk out of the store and head home, feeling wonderful.

When I arrive home, it is almost lunch time. I find my way to the kitchen and search through the refrigerator. I spot some bread, ham and vegetables scattered about and place the ingredients on the counter. I whip up a quick sandwich and sit on the couch. I look around, but my dad is nowhere to be found. He must be working. After I eat my sandwich, I head to my bedroom and decide to catch up on my sleep. I close the purple curtain and climb into bed, hoping that I won't fall out this time. Within minutes, my eyes become heavy and I fall into a deep sleep. My breathing is shallow and constant, but my mind is racing.

While I dream, the all-too-familiar brown eyes of my neighbor haunt me. I can see his figure in the distance, and I squint to see him clearer. I sense him all around me. The light scent of his cologne makes my head dizzy and I can't think straight. A small jolt of electricity flows through my veins as he moves closer to the light, _closer to_ _me_. I hear him whispering, his words gaining strength from the echo of the room. I can't take my eyes off of his golden skin, and I reach out to him. But I'm stuck! I look down and notice that my right arm is tethered to the floor by a thick, blonde rope. Panicked, my breathing starts to increase and my heart beats fast and hard. I look up again, and see him towering over me. I cannot breathe. He looks like an angel. My intuition tells me that he is dangerous, that I should stay away. But I cannot. With my left arm, I slowly reach up until my fingers are nearly touching his chest. He takes a step back and immediately disappears.

I wake up in a startle, breathing heavily. I look around my room for any sign of danger. There is nothing. With a sense of relief, I get up and walk towards my window for the second time today. The sun is setting and a beautiful orange glow spreads across the walls of my room. In the distance, I can see my neighbors, and a shiver runs down my spine. I close the curtain with a shaky hand and walk towards the living room, completely dumbfounded. I find my dad sitting on the couch with a bag of ice on his shoulder.

"Dad! What happened?" I ask, alarmed and nervous.

"Hey kid. I got in a bit of a pickle while climbing this afternoon. Tom and I drove up to the Sandia's today and bouldered for a while. I fell on my back and missed the crash pad." He replies, nonchalant.

"You need to watch out for yourself." I scold. "I'll get you a fresh bag of ice."

With that, I strut into the kitchen and fill up a Ziploc with ice. I seal the bag and return to the living room, exchanging it for his now, soupy, bag of ice. Angrily, I walk back into the kitchen and put the bag in the sink.

With a sigh, I walk to the freezer and take out the curly fries. I dump them onto a tray and wait for the oven to heat up. _Doesn't he care if he gets hurt? What if he gets seriously injured and nobody is around to help him?_ I take a deep breath to clear my mind, and put the fries in the oven. _He is like a child!_ After a long while, I take my dinner out of the oven and set up a movie on the television. I don't talk to my dad, or even look at him, for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

WHEN I WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING, I feel tired and unmotivated. It occurs to me that I have to meet Al at the music store in about an hour. Reluctantly, I get out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror shows a tumultuary appearance and a lack of self esteem. _What am I doing?_ I don't actually want to work. I only want the satisfaction that comes with _getting_ the job. It's all fun and games until you start your first day. I make a face at my messy hair and comb it vigorously into a side braid, hating every moment of it.

I grab an apple on my way out, and start walking in the direction of the music store. The weather is hot and sunny today, and it makes me regret wearing the dark jeans I brought over from Phoenix. I would have worn my usual shorts and a t-shirt, but I thought jeans would better embody the professional vibe I intended to give. Luckily, I paired my jeans with the white button down blouse I borrowed from my mom. It is light and comfortable, perfect for a stroll in the dry summer air.

Finally, I approach the music store and make a run for the door. As I step inside, I am greeted by the cold air flowing out of a vent in the ceiling. Relieved, I take a few seconds to calm down and slow my heart beat from the short sprint that occurred only moments earlier. When I have calmed down enough to speak again, I make my way toward the register. I glance around the store and stop in my tracks, like a deer in the midst of a headlight. My heartbeat, which had barely returned to normal, is racing again. My hands are sweating and my breath is caught in my throat. I swallow hard. My neighbor looks up from behind the register, and stares me down with his brilliant brown eyes. I am paralyzed with fear; I can't look away from his intense gaze. I notice that he has small, gold flecks dancing around the iris in each eye. The metallic glow holds my attention and traps me.

We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, when I hear the door open at the front of the store. My neighbor looks away from me and toward the sound. My body immediately relaxes, and I exhale deeply. I turn around and find Al walking to the register. He wears a big smile upon his face as he greets both of us.

"Good Morning Jake!" Al nods his head in Jake's direction.

"Morning Kate." He says, with a gentle voice.

Al moves past me and walks around the counter, behind the register. He unlocks a cabinet under the counter and disappears for a moment. Jake moves his eyes to meet mine and I feel completely helpless. Al stands up again and hands me a paper packet, complete with the names of all the records in the store. I grab it with shaky hands, feeling all of my strength drain away.

"Okay. Let's get started." Al says, excitedly.

"Kate, this is Jake. He has helped me run the store for a few years now. If you have any questions, you can ask him. He is always willing to help." Al says, endearingly.

He looks at Jake with a smile. Jake does not return it. Instead, his gaze has turned from a look of hostility to one of confusion. Perhaps he is not capable of looking happy. Al takes me around the store, showing me each isle of music. He tells me about the history of the store and the rather simple set up of music within it. He points to my packet often, showing me the titles of artists and albums located under each genre. My job is to align the records in alphabetical order under each category. Al prepares me well and informs me that I will be working alongside Jake for the duration of his trip to Georgia. I am afraid, but I try not to show it. I put on my best poker face and attempt to connect to the courageous side of me. I don't look at Jake, but I can feel his burning stare on my back.

After thirty minutes, Al leaves me on my own to organize the records. I sneak behind the isle closest to the door, as it is the one farthest from Jake. For the first time today, I feel a sense of security. Al comes by me one more time to check on my work. He approves my organizational skills and returns to the register.

A surprising amount of people come through the store over the course of the day. I thought this was an off-the-grid music store, but I realize now that it is extremely popular amongst music lovers. I asked a few customers where they were from. Some answered local; others told me they came from Santa Fe and even Colorado Springs. Eventually, customers stopped coming as frequently, which indicated that the peak hour for music searching was over. We closed up the store at three o' clock. I did a final sweep over the glossy wooden floors while Jake and Al counted the money in the register. They calculated the profits made from today and declared it a good day.

Internally, I declared it a good day too. Jake seemed to loosen up after a few hours, which made me more comfortable. He even came over to talk to me a few times. Granted, it was to double check the records. But his hostility toward me had evaporated, leaving me slightly confused, but largely relieved.

As the three of us exited the store, Al addressed Jake and me in a serious tone.

"I'll be leaving for Georgia tomorrow morning. Kate, you have shown to me that you are responsible and capable of keeping the store going while I'm away. Jake, the same goes for you; I am leaving you in charge. Don't pester Kate to much while I'm gone." He says with a laugh.

"Don't worry." Jake says. "I'll take care of the store. And Kate. But mostly, the store." He grins at Al, and playfully nudges my arm with his elbow.

"Take care, kids." Al says, and waves a final goodbye as he walks to his beaten pick-up truck and drives away.

Jake and I are still standing in front of the store long after Al has left. I can't find the courage to look at him, even though he has proved himself to be easy going. I know that I should at least say goodbye, but my tongue has escaped me. My mind is not capable of forming words. His cologne is making my head dizzy again. When I find the strength to look up at him, I discover that he is already looking down at me. A feeling of uneasiness settles in my stomach. _Why does he have to be so beautiful?_ My heart is almost broken because I want to know him, to find out his innermost secrets and fears. I want to know what makes him tick. But he is so overwhelming. And my dream told me that he was dangerous; that I should stay away. Suddenly, I feel sick and rigidly walk away from him, in the direction of my house. To my surprise, he trots right up next to me and makes me jump.

"Kate." He says. "Wait for a second."

My heart skips a beat. I've never heard him say my name before. It sounded heavenly, like his angelic lips were meant to say my name a thousand times. I turn around to face him.

"Hi." I say, breathlessly. I should have said something more, but his image left me speechless.

Jake seems unfazed by my lack of composure.

"Can I walk you home?" He asks politely.

"Sure." I respond, with a shy smile. "We do live right next to each other."

"Okay." He stops walking for a moment. I turn around to look at him. He looks serious, like he has something on his mind.

"Kate, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I had an argument with my mom and she pushed me farther than I wanted to go. I'm sorry for snapping at you."

I am speechless for a few moments, and can only manage a wary gaze in his direction. He reads the emotion in my eyes and begins to smile. He is infectious. I smile too and feel myself coming back.

"I thought you didn't want me to know about your personal business." I retort, with newfound confidence. I smirk at him and begin walking. I secretly note a small victory in my mind.

"Well it's probably in your best interest that you don't know about my crazy parents and their ideas for me. You might run away from me."

Run away? He doesn't realize that I'm a fish already caught on his hook. I couldn't run away even if I wanted to.

"I wouldn't." I reply, completely serious. "Run away, I mean."

He looks at me with wonder and a slow smile spreads across his face. My breath hitches again and my throat closes up. My face flushes a bright red color and I look away, towards the water that runs parallel to the dirt path.

By now, we have reached the white gate that opens to our neighborhood. I hesitate, unsure whether I should open it or not. Jake takes the liberty of opening it for me. It is difficult for me to process Jake's sudden change from hostile to friendly. I move with caution, afraid that he might snap back into the angry version of himself that I met only days earlier.

When we reach my house, I turn around to look at him one more time. Our eyes meet and I immediately feel myself becoming entrapped by his stare. The gold flecks continue to dance around his eyes. I count five little metallic specs, each a different shape and size. He blinks and I make an escape, looking towards the ground.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." Jake says, in a rather gentle voice.

I look up to see the uneasiness that has appeared in his eyes. Now that I have seen Jake when he is happy, I never want to see his eyes filled with anger or worry. I only want to see him smile.

"Tomorrow, then." I reply, hoping to settle the unwelcome emotion in his eyes.

With a smile, I turn and walk through the flowered stucco arch that leads into the courtyard. When I open the door to my house, I step inside and close it slowly, careful not to make too much noise. I lean against the door and exhale the breath I have been holding since I said goodbye to Jake. I slide to the ground and stare over my knees into the center of the house, completely overwhelmed.


End file.
